Dogs Go to Heaven
by shesamonster
Summary: Sam/Castiel. Taking a deep breath, Cas summoned every ounce of his courage and the knowledge that he'd garnered from an outdated issue of Cosmo. Slight crack, set after 5.04.


**Author's Notes: **This thing is a piece of crap. It's the resulting anal baby of crack and cluelessness, but the Stay Sassy commentfic meme at LJ ate my brain. So. Voila. It's set somewhere after 5.04.

Written for lovers100 at LiveJournal. Theme 96: Writer' Choice — Orgy.

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural & any recognizable characters belong to Eric Kripke & the CW. The story is my own.

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Dogs Go To Heaven

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The first time Sam laid eyes on Cas again, he beat him up with a rolled-up newspaper.

Cas blinked back at up at the Sam Winchester's towering form, a stricken expression on his face. He glanced over at Dean questioningly, hoping for some back up. Instead, Dean snickered at his misfortune and ducked back behind what was sure to be an ancient porn mag.

"You fucking _dog_!" Sam raved throwing his hand up angrily, his right fist clenching the abused newspaper tightly. "I can't believe you'd even have the _nerve!_"

Cas considered replying that he in fact did _not_ think that upsetting the devil's vessel in any way was a good idea, but wisely kept it to himself. "Sam, please," he attempted to placate the young man, but to no avail.

"An _orgy? Seriously?_"

The angel opened his mouth, ready to inquire as to what an 'orgy' is.

"And don't even think about acting all innocent, you conniving bastard!"

Cas snapped his jaw shut.

"Man, if I could, I would tear you apart!" Sam threatened, waving the newspaper menacingly.

If Castiel flinched, no one ever mentioned it.

"Dean told me what happened when Zachariah zapped him into 2014," Sam said accusingly. "You turn into some sleazy, pill-popping, pot-smoking, womanizing hippy!"

Castiel made a mental note to ask Dean what the majority of those words meant. And then to drag him back to hell. The oldest Winchester persistently avoided his gaze, his eyes never wavering from skin mag spreads in front of him.

"—sleep outside on the doorstep like the dog you are for the rest of your immor—"

Castiel remembered it would be conducive to pay attention to Sam if he wanted to avoid bloodshed. However, after several minutes of feverish pacing and wild gesticulating, he could no longer follow his angry tirade somewhere between fidelity and the slandering of "dirty, cheap whores." Castiel was somewhat baffled that prostitutes had anything to do with this conversation in the first place.

"—explain to me how a six-pack of toilet paper is the fucking loto jackpot, but—"

"Sam—"

"—still manage to bleach their roots and fucking moisturize!" The angel was positive humans weren't meant to turn that shade of purple.

"That was all pretty specific, Samantha," Dean piped up.

Sam's smoldering glare shifted from the angel to settle on his brother. Castiel murmured a prayer of thanks for the reprieve.

"Sam," Castiel tried.

"_What?_ the youngest Winchester snapped, setting his hands on his hips confrontationally. The newspaper was still fisted in the man's giant paw.

_Out of the fire into the frying pan_, Cas thought sardonically. Taking a deep breath, Cas summoned every ounce of his courage and the knowledge that he'd garnered from an outdated issue of Cosmo.

Sam stifled in a surprised gasp when Castiel suddenly appeared in front of him, the concept of personal space finding itself being thrown out the window of a 16-wheeler going 90. The angel raised his hand abruptly, and for a moment, Sam thought things were about to get ugly when Cas surprised him by tenderly tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Sam, I can assure you that I have not been unfaithful to you."

The young man could feel his face heating up at the unexpected display of affection. He vaguely heard Dean gagging.

"I'm not quite sure what Dean told you that would make you think otherwise," the angel continued, taking Sam's hands into his own, relatively oblivious to his discomfort and affection, "but I am prepared to win your love—"

Dean laughed in such a way, it sounded as though he'd spontaneously combusted. Castiel blinked owlishly at him, and pursed his lips.

"That...that's sweet, Cas," Sam said, a small smile on his face, his anger having ebbed away. The smile fell from his face and he clapped his hands over it embarrassedly. "I can't believe I accused you of cheating! I mean, I was being completely unreasonable—it didn't even actually happen yet! It's not like you could've known, and even if you did—it's just that I got so mad at the thought of—"

Castiel pecked Sam gently on the lips to silence his rambling. Dean continued guffawing in the background. His laughter finally having died down to a dull roar, Dean wiped away the tears still streaming from his eyes.

Sam sighed and turned to glare at his brother. "It really wasn't that funny, Dean."

Dean leaned back in his chair. "Are you kidding me? You two girls should've seen yourselves! I was worried you two would kiss and make up right here!"

Sam rolled his eyes. Castiel glanced back and forth between them.

"So, you gonna tell Sammy about the stripper, Cas?"

Sam looked aghast. And then angry. And then he was that awesome purple color again.

Castiel hurled the newspaper at Dean's head.

-

Yeah, so. I really don't think Dean would EVER tell Sam anything that happened in 2014, but this thing was just begging to be written. Please review. :)


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